The Retaliation of Seven
by Insert a Catchy Penname Here
Summary: The Lorien Seven are now the Lorien Six. We are exposed and not in much shape for an attack from anybody or anything, but change is pending. Everything we know is changing, and all the naivety we had about the Elder's is fading fast. The only things we know for sure is that the Garde will reunite, alliances will be made and shattered, and Lorien WILL rise again.
1. Division

The Retaliation of Seven 1

_**Author Note: **_Welcome, my fellow Loric, to the sequel of "The Hunt of Five". Read it first if you haven't already; it'd be a good idea.

Enjoy and thank you all SO MUCH! :D :D :D

* * *

_**John's P. O. V. **_

I stare at the utter disbelief as the scar burned raw into my leg.

Four scars of the fallen Loric. Four marks that haunt much deeper than my skin. The fourth mark doesn't belong to me. One of the other Garde has fallen, and we weren't there to help whoever it was.

_Now we only have six. The Lorien Six, just like we thought before Ella…_my thoughts are bitterly sullenly as I touch the fried flesh with my mere fingertips. Six, Nine, Eight, Adam, and I managed to get out from the burning car in time for all of us to be alive; apparently whoever our attacker was only wanted a hide-and-run kind of traumatization.

Six hasn't said a word since our group fight and is now merely curled in a small ball with her face hidden as Nine makes a fire for the approaching darkness. Eight is gripping his fists together tightly with his eyes bored into the ground; he's always been one of the most protective. Adam seems shaken up himself as I bats away unseen enemies in his sleep, his face twisted in inner pain and angst. Nine hasn't said a word, either, so the only noise comes from his starting a natural fire.

I slowly lower myself to my side and close my eyes tiredly. There really is no time for sleep at a time like this, but I have to recollect my thoughts before agreeing on any sort of next move. We finally found Number Five, but now she's gone and quite possibly dead. Marina, Ella, and Sarah are separated, and we're all in the middle of who-knows where with the Mogs finding us all. None of us have trained enough for this since the last attack, and we're hopelessly outnumbered and too weak for a real fight.

_And there's only six Loric left in the universe. _

The reality of that sends chills racing up and down my spine as I weakly clench my own fists. The grief is truly setting in on me now; we truly have lost another one of our own. I restlessly turn over and focus on not bursting into tears, instead forcing myself to focus on trying to get some sleep. There is no doubt a doubt in my mind that tomorrow will be one of the worst days, so I might as well be somewhat rested for it.

_This is it. This is really it._

* * *

**_Ella's P. O. V. _**

"I heard footfall just over here!"

"There isn't anything here, Jim. This place is a dump."

"Maybe the aliens like the dump!"

"Did you see the size of that penthouse? Even like to live it up some."

Throughout the men's arguing, I keep myself wedged between two old cars with my face covered by one rusty door. They're from obviously from the goverment- why else would they know I was in the penthouse? I've got no idea what they've done to Marina, and while a large part of me wants to turn myself over so I can find her, I know it'll be better if I stay un-caught and all in one piece. I can only begin to imagine the horrible things they do to aliens in their labs while they try to understand all of us; it might even be worse than what the Mogs could do.

"Look, I'm beat and the little one isn't here. Let's just call it a night and go get some drinks."

"I swear I-"

"Jim! Nobody gives a fuck! We'll just tell the boss man she's M.I.A. and that we'll get her tomorrow or something."

Their footfall grows lesser in volume as they unsuspectingly walk away from my hiding place. I remain still none the less as their cars start up and roll down the dusty old road that leads to the public dumpyard somewhere outside of Chicago. After all, it's better safe than sorry, right? Once several minutes have best, I allow myself to sag back to sitting and let out a sigh of relief. Now that they're off my case, I've got one more night to get further away and to survive.

I miss Marina...and Nine...and everybody. I sure hope they're okay; I don't know what I'd do if they weren't.

A lone tear streaks down my cut cheek. Ever since the penthouse attack, I've been bleeding off and on while I run, and now dirt covers my new image as a runaway. I'm completely on my own now, and I've got no idea what I'm doing or where I'm even going. All I can do at this point is pray for the others' safety and search for John and the others. Sarah should be safe enough, but I do feel bad for letting them for taking her.

_You couldn't do anything and not be caught yourself..._I think sadly as I shift into a younger age for the next town, _she'll be safe with the humans for a bit. _

"Hey! Hey, kid!"

Instant fear sends shiver up my stiffening body. I've got to get away from whoever sees me- I hope to God they didn't see me age-shift. Before I can start sprinting, though, a gentle set of fingers wraps around my wrist, making me shriek. My other hand flies to cover my mouth as I jerk around, looking about frantically while squirming. A slightly bent figure is all I can see in front of me with their hand around me without any signs of letting up their surprisingly strong grip; I whimper.

"Don't worry, little angel," he coos, and I realize with a small gasp I recognize the voice.

Tears begin to well in my eyes as the figure scoops me up, still keeping himself mostly bent as he ducks into the shadows. I realize the person who called out for me was Jim, and he's now gaping in confusion at the empty space I was just in. I barely have time to question anything as I'm carried further into the shadows by the figure. As I'm carried away, I rack my brain for how on _Lorien _I know this man. Papa and I didn't encounter him as far as I can remember, but there's something vaguely familiar about the Italian suit I'm being held against.

I'm set down in what seems to be a long-since forgotten alley, where I'm finally able to step back and take a good look at this man. He's hair is slicked back, and he's basically dressed to the nines...

Wait.

Nines.

_Nine._

It occurs to me there's a single photo on his bedside drawer, the only picture in the penthouse. It has a man that looks almost just like it, but only by his deep, dark eyes. Everything is different of this man, but something connects inside. I squint in the looming shadows and see another figure, one that appears that appears to belong to another man.

"Who are you people?" I whisper.

The smile is evident in the man who didn't carry me's voice, "Ten, I'd like to introduce myself as Henri. It's a pleasure to meet you."

* * *

_**Five's P. O. V. **_

"Do we get to eat dinner tonight, Emily?"

I bite my lower lip and glance at our food options. They're very slim- Roman noodles, a bowl of Easy Mac, half a loaf of bread. I consider it for a few more moments, then finally decide, "I think we can afford a little take out."

"Yay!" Her face lights up and I smile despite knowing we probably can't afford to do it and will regret later.

Ever since the beach, I manage to get out of that state and change my appearance enough to be unsuspecting from the news in this one. I tried giving up the baby, but ultimately I ended up keeping it. I've named her Ocean Jem, (after the ocean we landed in and Jemstone,) and she is currently asleep in the bundle of blankets on the table. It's the best we could do as I coax baby formula into her- she seems to be around two years old, and I know we're in no position to take care of her properly.

At this point, though, I'm left to merely attempt at trying.

I call a Chinese place and order some chicken and rice, then pull out a coat and say, "Michele, I'm going down the road to the convenient story to get Ocean Jem some more food. You know the drill."

She gives me a solemn nod as she gets on the floor instantly, ducking her head as I turn out the lights. I really can't risk anything, and most people I have no idea we're related with each other whatsover. Taking a deep breath, I take a quick job to the said convenient store, pacing myself to take less than ten minutes in total time. If anything happened to Michele or Ocean Lee...

I force the thought of my head as someone crashes into me.

"Oops! Sorry, kiddo."

A set of tan, pretty hands steady my shoulder instantly. I barely have time to recoil as I look up at the young woman who crashed into me- she looks about my age. Her hair is a dirty blonde with dark blue and green highlighting it in places, her bangs in a ringlet around her head. Her eyes a dark, iced-over type of blue, and her small little smile and faint smirk makes oxygen abandon my lungs.

_It can't...never. No way whatsoever._

But I can't help the shaky, emotion-filled whisper I manage through my denial, "S-Su...Summer?"


	2. What Remains

The Retaliation of Seven 2

**_Author Note:_**To the Americans: Happy Fourth of July! :D (The day after! :P)

To the non-Americans: Happy Thursday! :3 (Or Friday. :P)

To the Loric: Keep Calm and Kill Mogs. (Always.)

* * *

_**Sarah's P. O. V. **_

When I wake up, I am, (not surprisingly,) hooked up to about every machine mankind could have ever invented.

The wires are a tangle all around me as I glance around through the bright lights. I appear to be alone for right now, but I seriously doubt that will remain to be the case for long. I appear to be in a hospital, my clothes in a heap near my bed and a night gown being my only cover. Even under the thin covers I feel completely exposed; I always did truly hate hospital rooms and procedures. I struggle to sit up, trying to survey everything but only to fall back down. Not only does it send stabbing waves of pain throughout my body, I have small restraints around my wrists and ankles.

_Crap. _

As I suspected would happen, the door clicks open moments after I give up trying to rise. It's a man with smoothed down hair and a formal red tie, his dark eyes cold and calculating as he sits at the foot of my bed stiffly. His mainly concealed expression proves that he doesn't want to be here, or at least not with me fully aware and conscience.

"Sarah Hart, it is a pleasure," he recites from some script he was likely given previous to now.

"I wish I could say the same to you," I reply cooly, evenly, "what do you want from me?"

He looked like he was going to recite something else, but he drops it when I finish speaking and cuts right to the point, "We want to know where your little alien family is."

_They think I'm one of them now. _

I decide to put up the charade and reply, "Where w_e _are is none of your business."

He leans forward intently, bracing all over his weight on one leg as he tips closer to my face, "It is your duty, Miss Hart, to protect and inform this country. It is your home."

"No," I respond stiffly, "this is not my home."

That is a lie; Earth _is _and always has been my home. I still traces of American pride, but the powerful spirit of Lorien has captivated me more. It makes me feel a bit more in place, like it is truly where I belong.

"Then serve where you've lived since birth," he orders me sternly.

I merely shake my head and secure my lips just as I did with the goverment. I love John far too much to much to throw it away, and now my silence has been secured. Do as they will and try as they might, I will never speak to the United States goverment ever again.

Anything that happens to me from here will merely be a bonus.

* * *

**_Sandor's P.O. V. _**

It's kind of a funny story how I got revived.

On Lorien, everything was perfect and the Elders were all-knowing and wise. I never saw the big deal about them, but apparently they had a better idea of what they were doing than I gave them credit for. They apparently could sense an attack coming, because when the Mogs invaded and destroyed our planet, they merely killed our people's bodies.

Their souls, on the other hand, harvested deep within Lorien's core and are now hibernating just like our planet.

When Lordias cast that charm over the young Garde as well, apparently it also served as a link to both Lorien and us Cepans. While it didn't grant total immunity on Earth, it guaranteed that our souls would be preserved to Lorien's core, just like our people. As their Legacies awakened and all that good stuff, Lorien became just a little stronger and set to reviving the dead's souls to return to Earth. When we overcome the Mogodorians, we'll come home and Lorien will rise again.

So basically everybody'll come alive, so our race isn't gone.

Just hibernating.

By the time I get done explaining all of that to Number Ten, she seems to be shocked and a little confused. I merely shake my head and tell her, "Look, it confused me too. Just understand that all of the Numbers will eventually come back and so will the Cepan because of our Elders' sacrifice."

"Wh...what about Pittacus Lore?" she studies with big brown eyes, "he didn't die, did he?"

"Still M.I.A. last time I checked," I respond with a shrug, "well, I died and I came back, so I'm not too worried about it right now."

Bran-I mean _Henri_- rolls his eyes behind me and bends over to her level briefly, "Do you have any idea where the other Garde are right now, Ella?"

She shakes her head sadly and looks down, "The government or Mogs- I'm not sure which one- attacked Nine's penthouse and broke us all up. Six, Four, Nine, and Eight all went looking for Five with our ally, Adamus. Sarah, Marina...er, Seven, and I were all still back at the penthouse. I've got no idea where Seven went and Sarah was taken by the government."

Her voice is extremely sad and full of despair as she explains this to us, and it inspires me to briefly place my hand on her shoulder. "We're going to find them, kid."

"O-okay..." she whispers as Henri stands to his full height.

"Do you know where the penthouse is?" he inquires.

"I don't really know any directions..." she replied sheepishly, so I step forward.

"You forget I rigged up the place," I smirk a bit, "I know where it is, so let's go."

* * *

Carl looks rather surprised as I flash him my identity of Damian Worthington.

One side effect of being restored to Earth is that my body has long since gone back to Lorien and all that jazz. My soul was converted into some dying business man's body, leaving me to sneak out of the morge and try to make myself look as Sandor-like as possible. When I met Henri at some coffee shop in Paradise, Ohio, he seemed kind of shocked at my new look. Needless to say it took me a minute to get used to his new face and slightly upped height, but we've coped. I just hope our Garde don't snap our necks for the lack of believing we _are _their Cepans.

"Damian, you look...different," Carl muses from behind his desk, "it's not bad or anything, it's just..."

"New?" I finish for him with a million-buck grin, "I thought so, too."

His smile fades, "Well, there's kind of been a problem. Some helicopters crashed into the building and pretty much destroyed your penthouse. We're working quickly on repairs...and I can offer you a couple of lower bedrooms while we recover the four floors it decimated. The girls up there weren't found, so we assumed they made it out...but I see you've already found your niece here. Luckily we only had a few other casualties, but we are sorry for what's happened."

I pretend this all new to me and feign hurt, "Oh...well...I'm just going to check through the rubble, see if anything survived."

"We have a recovery team out there currently, but go right ahead," he nods solemnly, "I'll ready some rooms for you and..." He glances back at Henri quizzically while giving Ella sympathetic smile.

"Business partner," I answer casually.

With that, I head up to elevator and slide in the key to go on up. Ella and Henri follow quietly, both looking a bit nervous and quite out of place. The elevator, as kind of expected, creaks and comes to hault at the 96th floor. With a reluctant groan from me, we make our way up the mangled steps slowly until I'm pretty sure we're on the once 100th floor.

"It seemed to have one been a nice place..." Henri muses as we begin rummaging around.

"It was absolutely gorgeous," Ella looks at me sadly and apologetically, but I just shrug her off and scoop up the jacket of one my Italian suits.

_Damn, this is going to take forever. _

* * *

**_Eight's P. O. V. _**

The car was totaled after the attack, so we decided to hoof it right after checking out the remains of the helicopter that crash-landed into us.

Inside we find many piles of ashes, proving it was the Mogodorians that ambushed us. The helicopter is just as totaled, but we do find something valuable inside. There's a small stash of papers with notes all about us Garde, information they'd gathered in the past. I toss it to the grass bitterly, stepping aside for John to set it on fire with his Lumen.

That's when I see a number I didn't before: Seven.

And it's got an 'X' through it.

"Wait!" I yell as he begins to singe the files. He jumps a bit, staring at me with the others as I stumble forward.

_Please God, don't let it be true...don't let it be true..._

Most of the writing is in Mogodorian, so I can hardly tell what it's saying. I do manage to make out the words 'gone' and 'fell', though, and let said files flutter back to the ground. Dark clouds begins to creep over my mind as tears pool in my eyes for the first time in years, and I don't make any effort to stop them as I sink to my knees. The others begin to creep behind me but that doesn't matter in my mind now.

_My Marina's dead. _

In no time I'm in a fetal position, slumped forward totally and bawling my eyes out. After a few agonizing minutes, I feel two's hands on my back and tense up horribly. In the corner of my bleary left eye, I see Nine and Adamus staring at the paper, faces tight as Adam glances between the mess I am and the numbers. Six and John are both beginning to lift me to my feet, but I merely slump forward and choke a bit of my grief.

"It doesn't matter..." I whisper while clenching my trembling hands, "she's gone anyway."

_Marina, if I die, I will die in your honor. _


	3. Pleasure

The Retaliation of Seven 3

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

She doesn't look like she did a few years ago, and not just for the reason she's seventeen now.

Her nose is thinner, her hair is obviously died from black into her normal dirty blonde with various dark blue/light green highlights, and she's a bit taller than she should have been. Her eyes, though, are still dark green with the same shine they've always had. I squint, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. I was so convinced the Mogs just killed her, that she was truly gone..

Her teeth gleam as she beams at me, "That's right, baby."

I begin to back away slowly, "That's impossible...you're dead!"

"No, I _was _dead," she smiles gently.

I stare daggers into her as she takes my arm, guiding me outside and beginning to explain things to me. It seems like a legitimate enough story, but how could I possibly trust it?

"Oh yeah? Then where's our mother?" I ask sharply.

"She's still being reformed right now," her smile falters a bit as she says this, pain evident in her familiar eyes.

I study her for a few endless minutes. This could always be another trick; Mogodorians are getting smarter just like we are. None the less, they say eyes are the windows to the soul, and hers are identical. If it was Setrakus Ra, he would've copied her original body...I'm almost positive of that. Slowly, I take her hands in mines and squeeze. The bones are different than humans or Mogodorians...it's distinctly Loric.

With tears finally welling in my eyes, I wrap my arms around her and whisper, "I missed you so much."

* * *

Michele tenses as I enter with my partner helping me carry some bags, but I merely smile. "No need to be afraid, honey. This is my best friend," I assure.

"What's...what's her name?" she inquires softly.

"Summer," she replies kindly, sitting down a couple of bags on the table and kissing the top of her head, "Fi-Emily and I have known each other since we were your age, sweetheart."

She studies her with wide, intelligent eyes. Ocean Jem has started to wake up by this point, her soft cries slowly increasing in volume. I quickly make my way over, scooping her up while beginning to warm up a bottle on the stove. I hear Summer and Michele's conversation as I calm down the baby, cradling her to my chest like a busy mother.

_I suppose I am one now. _

"How old are you?" Michele tilts her head to the side while asking the question.

"Seventeen," she replies, "how about you?"

"Seven," she studies her further, "how did you meet Emily?"

"We grew up together. My mother was basically her mother," she explains briefly.

"So...you two are sisters?"

A small smile plays on her full lips. "Yes, I suppose we are."

I chuckle quietly before picking up the now warm bottle, coaxing it into Ocean Jem's whimpering mouth. She quiets down instantly, leaving me to sit at the table and rock her a bit while Summer gets out materials for lunch. Everything seems almost out of perception now- it's like I'm living in a dream. It occurs to me that, if Summer can come back and all, the other Cepans will be able too as well. If that happens, my theory is that they'll all be better organized and we _might _be able to work all together. After all, they managed to keep all of the Garde alive together when we were on the ship to Earth all those years ago.

Now we just have to reunite.

_Well shit. _

* * *

**_Nine's P. O. V. _**

"Ladies and gentlemen..." I mumble as we all reluctantly huddle around the campfire, "Eight is _officially _depressed."

Nobody really responds to my comment, so I settle for scooping up the rabbit I just killed and beginning to gut it. Johnny Boy looks disgusted again, but I just ignore it; he'll eat if he doesn't want to go hungry. I learned to do it when Sandor and I ended up in those out of the way places for a couple of nights, using my telekinesis so I could use my hands for the cooking. Sandor thought it pretty disgusting, but he dealt with it.

"What are you doing?" Six grumbles bitterly.

"Cooking nature's finest," I reply simply, scooping up a leg and holding it over the fire, "yo, Johnny! Send some of the lower flames up!"

He scowls a bit but holds up his hand, coaxing them of the dimmer heat down and burning my fingers in the process. Gnawing on the inside of my lip in response, I lift up the cooked meat and stuff it in my mouth smugly. He just scowls and look around, leaving me to cook about the rest of the rabbit and choke down some of the bloody muscles.

"Dinner is served," I grunt about ten minutes later, setting down half of the main body in front of Johnny and the other half to Six, "barbecued rabbit. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find a squirrel for the other lover boy and me."

Once again, I'm greeted with a dead crowd. I stride over to a still-sulking Eight at that point, snatching his shoulder and pulling him to his feet. "Come on, loverboy. Let's go get some squirrel."

He looks away from me bitterly. "Go screw yourself, Nine."

"I've already tried that," I roll my eyes, "it's convenient when you're lonely and shit, but it gets kind of awkward."

He merely scowls and turned away again, but I grab his shoulder once again and yank him to his feet. He can mope all he wants when the war is over; it sucks Marina died and all that, but war doesn't come without causalities or deaths. We all knew it was going to happen- at least I did- so if everyone else was too hopeful to think otherwise it's their own fault. Eight's now got his back to me, a scowl evident from the sides of his face even from this angle. I snort.

"Forget you too, then. But don't come running to me when you're all whiney and hungry." I turn my back and stalk out, plucking out a small piece of wire from my back pocket to retie my hair back.

_At least Number Five and I had something in common..._I think bitterly as I duck behind a bunch of bushes, _we both prefer to work solo. _

* * *

**_Henri's P. O. V. _**

"So it's settled, then," Sandor flips off his dusty shades and flops back on one of the beds in our temporary room, "we'll go their estimated location tomorrow."

"What about Sarah, Seven, and Five?" Ella asks softly, looking up at both of us with her large brown eyes. She's too innocent for this war; she obviously hasn't seen the things we've seen, for better or for worse.

"We have to worry about the main body of the Garde before we worry about the human and the one missing in action," he replies easily, rolling to his side and tuning us out.

I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. Having raised a Garde may have matured him in a good number of areas, but he's still the same old Sandor I first recruited back on Lorien. He's still focused on one main thing and incredibly too-stubborn about it, but it's difficult to determine whether or not that's a good thing at this point in the war. He's right on needing to gather as many Garde at once as possible, but a solo Garde is much weaker than all of them. As much as I want to reunite with John, I also don't want us to be down a Number because they were on their own.

Sighing, I lay back on my own bed and run my hands through my hair. It was difficult enough getting anywhere with Sandor, but now we have to bring back together Garde ourselves as well as find our reforming fellow Cepans. There's twenty Loric in total destined to fight for Lorien and bring it back to life when the war is over, but it's apparent not all of us are going to make it. All of we Cepan died once, and if we go a second time, I highly doubt that we'll be able to reform a second time.

A second was probably too much to ask, but a third is next to impossible. It's do or die for more than likely all of us.

"H...Henri?" I look over at the small form of Number Ten.

"Yes, Ella?" I inquire kindly, propping up briefly on one elbow to look at her better. Her eyes are wider than normal, full of fear and concern with her body posed in a withdrawn stance.

"Um..." She looks down reluctantly, chewing on her lower lip. "I was just wondering...um...what was John like when he was little?"

There's something else that lies beneath her words, something more afraid. I half reluctantly heft myself up, sitting on the edge of the bed and motioning for her to join me. She scurries over fearfully, her face hesitant but her expression showing gratefulness.

Pushing back my own fatigue, I consider the question. "Well...he was always very shy. He liked to stay behind me a lot and ask _many _questions, which is likely one of the reasons he got to be so intelligent. He was always curious about our culture, but he also wanted to know about the human race. Having to move around so much gave him many chances to find out things about each area we went to, and he always seemed to enjoy the trivia I'd throw out for him. He and I always had a...special bond. Until he was about eleven or twelve, he actually called me his father outside of our aliases."

Her eyes are shining. "Wow, you two really must have been close...I know you've really missed him."

I smile sadly, "I have. But I'll see him again soon enough, I suppose." Now I reach forward and nudge her auburn hair out of her face, inquiring gently, "Now...what's the reason you asked me?"

She nibbles on her lower lip briefly, "Um...I wanted to know if he had any Legacies when he was...my age. How strong he was and stuff."

I nod slowly. It's understandable; she doesn't appear to have many at this point. She's still so young, so I wouldn't expect her too; she's obviously quite smart, though, to be have been able to make it that long on her own. Sandor and I have already seen she's an Aeternus, (as shown by her being a seven year old when he fetched her,) but that's all we know of right now. Judging by her expectant face, she's envious of how powerful the other Garde are sure to be in their older ages and likely considers herself to be among the weakest.

"He was just beginning to hone his telekinesis," I muse thoughtfully, "but he didn't get his Lumen until he was fifteen."

Her eyes go to an even larger size impossibly, "Really?"

Smiling a bit despite myself, I agree, "Really. You seem to be quite the little smartie yourself; I can tell you're destined for power."

Color flushes to her cheeks, "Do you think so? I mean...I can change my ages and have some telepathy, but my telekinesis is still weak.."

I smile more at her information of her current Legacies and say, "Those are two very powerful Legacies, Ella. We can easily work on your telekinesis, but combined with your intelligence, you'll be truly great, even more than you are right now."

"Th-thank you..." She glances down at her lap modestly, but a smile plays on her lips.

"Now..." I place a hand on her knee, "it's time for us all to get some sleep. We've got a very long day ahead of us."

She glances over at the snoring Sandor, then says smally, "Would you mind if I slept on the other side of the bed? The window bench is too hard..."

I smile gently. Part of me wants to tell her to get used to sleeping on uncomfortable surfaces, and the rest of it wants to take it myself and let her have the bed, but I also know how frightening things like this used to be for both John and I. He constantly slipped into bed with me when he was quite young, and though he stopped around her age, he'd also hit that rebellious streak by the time. She's still got a certain innocence about her, and I don't really mind preserving it. Laying back once more, I pat the other side of the large bed encouragingly. As she climbs up, I notice that she's shifted into her four year old form, and it breaks a small, sad smile to her face.

"Goodnight, Henri," she whispers in her young, tired voice.

"Goodnight, Ella."

* * *

**_Unknown's P. O. V. _**

She's frantically running up and down the streets, looking for anyone familiar. Door after door has been closed on her, just like it's rumored to have been when she first came to Earth. I smirk from where I watch inside the vacant home I got into rather easily; I am in the perfect disguise as a father home alone for the night. She's approaching my door rapidly after all of the neighbors close theirs on her face or yell at her, but by the time she's right in front of my window, tears are streaming down her hopeless face.

This would be enjoyable any other day.

She turns her back at this point, obviously giving up on anybody taking her in. Wiping my face of my smirk, I morph it into a concerned, caring face upon opening my door. Her body tenses as it creaks open, pouring a little brighter of a light on the dimly lite street.

"Why are you out here all alone?" I inquire, acting as if I hadn't been watching her struggles almost all night before I finally hide while she grew more tired.

"I can't...I have nowhere to go," she whispers hoarsely, "I'll be gone by morning, just..._please_ give me somewhere to risk away from the...the authorities."

_You mean your enemy, sweetheart. We are closer than you think. _

"Of course," I smile convincingly, opening my door wider and allowing her to stumble inside.

She's in bad state currently, but she's still healthy. I offer her to side at the table, then push a bowl of soup I found resting on the counter in front of her. She kindly turns it down at first, but I eventually talk into taking a couple of slow bites out of it.

"I put in a secret ingredient," I smile at her carefully, "family secret, you see."

"It tastes lovely..." She wrinkles her nose a bit, showing it's bitter. All the better to see her squirm, I suppose. "Um...do you live alone?"

"I have family," I muse, standing up and guiding her by the small of her back to the couch, "you look exhausted. You should get some sleep."

She yawns a bit, commenting, "I am quite tired after that stew and searching, it seems...I am grateful for you, sir."

My wide curls up further, "It was my _pleasure_, dear."


	4. Repairing What's Broken

The Retaliation of Seven 4

**_Adam's P. O. V. _**

I extend my arms slowly, toward the rising sun. The shadows fall at angles around me, casting out from my body as I behold myself to the forest. I wandered off from the others as soon as I woke up just for this moment, a time of total solitude in the rising sun. We had the crash near the woods, and I managed to find the same hidden treasure of a few large rocks clustered around a glittering pond. It's one of the most gorgeous things I've ever seen; Earth truly is a gorgeous place compared to what Mogodore was, or as far as I can remember.

I can only imagine what Lorien must have been like before my own race brought it's fall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Nine's sudden growl sends chills up and down my spine involuntarily.

Timidly, I turn around to look at the large, intimidating Garde towering over me. Out of all of them, he's obviously the strongest and is a pure power house that wouldn't mind snapping my neck. I almost choke on the lump on my throat as I squeak out, "Just...looking."

He grunts and sneers, "I wouldn't be surprised if you were programming some kind of bomb. Don't think I don't know where that helicopter came from."

I wince, "I didn't call that, I swear!"

"I don't believe you, Mog Boy." He moves like a flash, clamping his hand around my neck and jerking me off of my feet in one smooth motion.

My air supply becomes limited as I struggle uselessly, kicking in mid air. His fingers are crushing down on my airway, turning my world blurry and into shades of dark, angry colors. Before the piercing lights overcome me, though, I'm jabbed in the stomach with someone's elbow and tip off of the edge of the rock. In first few minutes, I'm merely gasping for breathe, clawing at the ground and struggling to clear my unfocused eyes. As my world comes back to reality, though, I'm greeted with signs of an obvious fight.

"You're working for the enemy too, are you?!" Nine growls, sounding more pissed than I've ever heard him, "get the fuck off of me!"

"He's our _ally_!" John shouts back bitterly, "he's been with us for over a month now and you still refuse to trust him! Why can't you get it through your head that he _can't_ and _won't _hurt us?!"

Something heavy lands with a crack above my head. Nine barks out, "You have _no damn idea _what that _Mogodorian _is capable of! For all the fuck we know he could be a scout relaying information to his generals, as if that helicopter nearly frying us wasn't enough of an indication! He _can't be trusted_, so we _kill his ass_. It's not rocket science, Johnny!"

John grunts from wherever Nine through him. I finally muster up enough courage for me to look up at them; I don't like what I see. Both of them have blood of their faces and their fists clenched, even as Nine stands dominantly over him. Rage twists their faces into hard, stoic masks of true warriors, almost of true enemies.

Over me.

"Not all Loric were good..." John snarls out, "so not all Mogodorians have to be bad. You're the perfect example of bad Loric and he's the ideal example of a good-intention set Mog."

This does it for Nine. Something blank fills his dark eyes, and he's suddenly send Four flying into the trees towering above. His bloody form falls heavily to the ground, making a soft sound that doesn't come from the living hitting solid ground. I look up in pure shock and horror to the other Garde, but his back is turned solemnly as he storms away, the rock cracking beneath his heavy, bitter footsteps. With almost no coordination, I stumble over to the form of a broken Number Four.

His face is bloody and he obviously has a broken arm. That's not likely all, considering there's blood gushing out from one shoulder and his head is slung to the side. Something pokes up through his upper right thigh through his jeans; It's all I can do to turn away and vomit bile. Frantic footfall is behind me as I turn back to the unconsciousness Four, weakly trying to push back down his shattered leg bone and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

I'm suddenly thrown heavily to the side with a sharp kick to my side. Through the dampness reforming in my eyes, I see Number Six leaning over Four's broken form with a look of rage and disbelief mixed on her face. I'm yanked to my feet by a pissed-off Number Eight, the depression in his admirably attractive green eyes replaced with hatred.

"What did you do to him?!" he snarls in my face. Instantly I think he's talking about Four, but then I realize he means Nine.

"I was just watching the sun rise, I swear!" I sputter out, just as terrified of this Garde who's trained for survival in the mountains, "he attacked me because he thought I called in the helicopter!"

Eight narrows his eyes, turning them brown with his deep-running anger, "And how do I believe that?!"

"B-because I di-didn't call in the helicopter!" I try to reason as breathing once again becomes a labor, "d-don't you th-think I would've d-done it before it I wa-wanted too?!"

He seems to contemplate this, even as he slams me into the ground. My world tilts unevenly as my stomachs clenches around itself, my gasping throat making me choke down the rest of the vile I was about to hack up. More minutes tick away before I realize he's assisted Six in trying to get Four in a bit of a more comfortable position, or at least to get pressure off of his broken bones.

"We need Marina..." I hear Six mumble before a look of regret replaces her bitter one.

Anguish and despair fills Eight's expression as he replies gravely, "Yes, we do. I know some minor first aid, but that's going to be all I can do."

"About the same here..." Six whispers, pained, "do you think he'll be able to use his developing healing legacy on himself?"

He shakes his head, "I doubt it. Marina...she could barely do it, and hers is much more developed and stronger than his. We're going to have to take him to a hospital."

"With his face still on the F.B.I's most wanted?" Six snots, but there's pain in her voice, "we can't risk it."

"And we can't risk losing him!" Eight argues, his own voice tight and strained, "we'll have too!"

"That," an unfamiliar voice speaks from the last of the morning shadows, "won't be necessary."

* * *

**_Sandor's P. O. V._**

Number Four isn't in good shape, Number Six is hurting with him emotionally, and Number Eight looks depressed. If that's not enough, we're apparently 'allied' with a Mogodorian boy. And where's all of my Garde in the middle of this?

M.I.A.

"Well," I finally decide as Henri does some work on his own Garde and Ella murmurs comforting things to Six and Eight, "I'm going to go find him."

Henri glances up from his work and tells me not to go too far. I simply roll my eyes at his ever-controlling presence, turning my back on the rest of them and heading into the woods. It may be risky to be alone in the woods, (and I'm not much of a trees/outdoor kind of guy,) but it's still daylight out and I know my Garde is. As I step over the brush and through the endless masses of trees, I think about Nine always ventured into out-of-the way places like this when we'd move. I suppose it reminds him of his home on Lorien, or at least brings back his old feelings toward it.

Lorien knows how long I stumble around, as lost as a technical person can possibly be, until I finally find him. He's pacing, rubbing his forehead restlessly as he walks up everything, including the sides of trees and along the treeline. I smile faintly my Garde's developed anti-gravity Legacy, watching for a few more minutes before clearing my throat. He doesn't turn his back from facing me, but he's tensed and obviously ready for a blow to come.

"It's been a minute, Nine," I comment casually, leaning against a tree.

He turns around in one smooth motion, planting both feet against the trunk as if he was on the ground. His long black hair hangs down, framing his face a bit as he gazes up at me from his odd angle. He scowls and takes a small step back, knees bent in preparation to attack himself.

"Who the hell are you?" he snarls out dangerously.

I blink, remaining calm under my Garde's familiar angry look, "I'm Sandor."

Moments later, I'm pinned tightly against the tree trunk with the worn trunk digging into my back. His eyes flash with pure resentment as he growls in his throat. A bit less calm now, I reach up and place my hands briefly on his shoulders and quickly spit out my explanation to him. He stares at me disbelieving, eyes still flashing; It's obvious he's considering breaking my neck to shut me up.

"If I wasn't Sandor..." I begin slowly, "then how would I know that you never go to sleep before one AM or get up before noon unless absolutely necessary? Or that when you're stressed or angry you get a headache that always begins at the center of your forehead and spreads slowly as your emotions build?"

"What was it that I wanted for my tenth birthday I wanted for two years beforehand?" Nine shoots back instantly.

"Samurai numchucks," I reply easily, "the ones with with the Shiba symbol on the bottom of the left handle. I got you a set on your ninth birthday, but you got angry because the Shiba symbol was on the wrong one and it was made in China."

His tough expressions falters a bit, "What was my favorite breakfast as a kid and when did I stop liking it as much?"

"Sausage," I respond, my smile slipping through, "I used to pretend I made them with nails that were actually vitamins shaped like them. You didn't like it as much when you figured that out."

Now his tough expression has nearly vanished into that of a shocked, aching-inside young man. "...What was the first thing you made me do when I developed telekinesis?"

"I led you into my current workshop and had lift up everything you could," I respond, "...after yelling at you to stop trying to balance coffee mugs in the air."

At that point he breaks, throwing his arms around me and embracing me tightly against his broad chest. I smile to myself, carefully wrapping my arms around him as well and rubbing his muscled, tight back.

"You have no idea I missed you," he grumbles into my shoulder, but something wet dribbles onto my bare neck.

I smile a bit wider, letting him feel it into his own shoulder and mumbling, "Looks who's talking, kid."


	5. Setting up Fate

The Retaliation of Seven 5

**_John's P. O. V. _**

"Don't move yet."

I flinch. The voice is a bit deeper than I remember, but I know the accent anywhere. I got in accident a lot when I was young- I was extremely curious by nature, so it caused for reason that was my Cepan sharpened up his medical skills. There were countless times I was laid on a table or bed, the hurt part/parts exposed while Henri doctored them up. He was very careful and nurturing, but also quick to tease me a bit and order me in that same stern tone of voice. The sound of it makes me shiver and try to roll over on instinct, which earns me a sharp smack to the hand and being readjusted on the ground.

"Go away," I grumble to the voice.

It chuckles, "Open your eyes, John."

Slowly, I obey. Everything hurts and feels unnatural, like a puzzle that was just fitted fitted after being chewed on, stomped on, then spit out of something wet and sticky. The man kneeling over me is practically a stranger, his stomach pretty flat and his skin weathered and tanned. His face is solemn and calm by structure, but his hazel-brown eyes are shining.

_First the vaguely familiar voice, now identical eyes. _

Setrakus Ra truly is cruel, but this is far too painful to just be a dream. Then again, after Nine nearly killed me earlier, it wouldn't surprise me. Maybe I am dead, and now I've joined Henri in some other form.

"Henri?" I slurr out.

"That's right," he smiles grimly, "now, let me finish treating you, alright? I'll explain everything after you get some more rest."

"You...you're dead..." I manage with the colors creeping back into my vision.

"Just sleep for now, John."

* * *

_I'm in the remains of what used to be a small house, trapped by two large beams of wood digging splinters into body. I groan as I attempt to sit up, blood filling my vision as I look around for any of the others. There's nobody other than a large, hideous figure and a strangely familiar woman constrains to the table. As I continue my struggles, I notice a wad of bloodied blonde hair and mangled figure over a small pile covered by wood and traces of a fire. A small hand reaches up shakily from that pile, touching the pile of blonde hair as the hideous figure turns toward me. _

_"Setrakus Ra," I snarl, wanting nothing more than to get up so I can murder him like he obviously did the two piles. _

_He flashes me a dangerous smile, "Ah, Number Four. It's about time you joined me again." _

_"What did you do to them?!" I demand sharply, "who is she?!"_

_"Just another one of your allies," he chuckles darkly, releasing his grip on the woman's neck and grabbing the wad of blonde hair from the ground. The small hand spreads in alarm, but he merely stops on it and emits a sob-filled shriek._

_"Let Ella and her go!" I snap, struggling harder with no reward, "I swear to Lorien I'll kill you!" _

_"Kill? You mean like I did her?" he smirks, showing me the owner of the blonde hair._

_ It's Marina, bloody and with traces of have been swimming. Her obviously broken neck flops to the side as he throws her toward me, giving me the scent of the sea and having her blood mix in with my own. Bones jab out at odd angles from around her as I scream, my struggles locking in horror long enough for him to snatch me up by the neck as well. _

_"Now I've got her precious Cepan," he smirks darkly, "and I'm going after your group next. You can't hide from me any longer, Number Four; You have already been found." _

_He begins to snap my neck. I scream a final time, clawing wildly at his hands as he purrs, "One more Garde down, only six to go." _

* * *

When I wake up again, there's a fire cracking in front of me. I'm drenched in sweat, but it's glow keeps my front warm from where I'm on my side. I'm still horribly sore with stomach clenching emptiness, and my back is freezing from where's it's fazing the woods. I'm grateful for whoever moved me in front of the fire. As expected, I am not alonge; shadows dance with the crackling flames and faces stand out in unfocused figures beyond the heat. I squint, moving to shield my back from the bitter cold and falling direct on it.

"He's just fine," the familiar voice chuckles. Someone giggles as someone helps me sit up, setting something warm in my numb hands.

"Eat up, Johnny. You need it," Nine's gruff voice orders softly. I recoil instantly and turn my face away, my fingers sinking into the warm figure he handed me to eat.

"How do I know you didn't poison it?" I spit.

"If I could eat it you can do," a unfamiliar voice snorts nearby.

I look over in the direction of the voice and squint, making out Six's gorgeous form and Eight's tall, in-shape one. Another small shape is sitting between them- I believe its Ella- and the owner of the unfamiliar voice is sitting beside Six. He's got a young face, broad shoulders, and a small smirk that almost matches Nine's. I narrow my eyes and look back to Nine.

"Who's he?" I demand half sharply, inspiring both of them to chuckle airily.

"I think he'll live," the familiar voice says nearby. Footsteps come in my direction and the man that was healing me earlier sits in front of me, glancing at the meat in my hands. "You need to eat, John."

"Tell me what's going on and I will," I decide easily.

He chuckles briefly, "Still stubborn, I see. Well, I suppose I'll start with...I'm Henri."

* * *

It took some tears and some slight prodding, but soon I've managed to accept Henri really _is _alive as well as eat whatever animal Nine gave me.

We're all sitting around the fire now, not saying much. It's around this time that the reality of Marina's death is setting in on and all of us, making us all mourn quietly and solemnly. Even Nine's face is dashed with regret, traces that prove he still feels and cared about her as much as we all did. I've given Ella a break from holding Six and Eight's hands for comfort and now have her perched on my knee, bouncing her slightly as I try to keep her warm. We've all shot back and forth ideas of what our next move is: Finding Five, locating wherever the Mogs attacked us from, trying to find the revived others, figuring out who killed Marina and how.

We all can't agree on anything, but we all mutually have decided we can't split up again.

"I miss her," Ella whispers, guilt filling her words.

"We all do, kid," Nine sighs, taking her free me knee and letting her sit in his lap, "the only thing we can do now is avenge her."

"I know she went down fighting..." Six comments softly, gazing up at the millions of stars in Earth's skies, "she died in Lorien's honor."

"And she's coming back," Nine's Cepan- Sandor- points out somberly.

"But when?" Eight asks testily. Out of all of us, he's taking this among the hardest because of his immense love for her.

I glance over at Adamus and sigh. He's been unconscience since Nine attacked us both, and if/when he wakes, I know he'll be like me and want to avoid him as much as possible. I'm resisting the urge to take Ella back in my own hold as I study my palms, flicking on my Lumen absently and losing myself in the brilliant light. My mind stays glued to the vision I had earlier, my heart growing numb as I remember his chilling words.

_One more Garde down_, _only six to go._

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

"Bye bye house!" Michele waves in farewell to the small house as Summer drives us all in the other direction.

Summer and I both chuckle briefly as I hold Ocean Jem in my lap. We're heading at the last place I saw the Garde, and though the news informs us the top part of it is ruined, they're bound to be nearby. If nothing else the staff will recognize me as Stanley Worthington's friend and can give me a rough idea of where they went, which is really what I need now. We've got to reunite because of that scar that burned deep into my leg; another Garde down means one step closer to defeat, and everybody knows that.

"Who do you think it could be?" Summer mutters to me as she drives.

I sigh, knowing exactly what's she's talking about. "My best guess is someone like John or Marina."

"What about the little one?"

"I don't think she's linked to us original nine, but it's always possible."

_Marina better pray if she let Ella be killed, _I think to myself slightly bitterly.

"Emily," Michele voice up from the back, "are we going to go find a new home now?"

"Yes," I confirm for her solemnly.

"...Are you going to leave me there this time?"

I tense up at the reminder. She has every right to remind me of what I did to her, but it doesn't make it any easier to think about. Maybe it would be easier, to give her up again and try to forget her and Ocean Jem. But they're more of a family than the Garde were, and there never will be any way for me to get them off of my mind.

"I'm never going to leave you again," I tell her seriously, twisting around and looking her in the eyes.

"Pinkie promise?" She holds up hers hopefully.

When we look pinkies, I can't help but notice Summer's solemn face and disapproving eyes in the rearview mirror.

* * *

**Author Note: **If you guys would be so awesome to check out my stories "No Other Optinons" and "Kloutus" I would love you all more than I already do...and you get a free virtual cookie! :3


	6. Murder Victims

The Retaliation of Seven 6

**_Unknown's P. O. V. _**

I walk across the ruins of my planet, carefully easing myself beneath the surface. The sight I behold is heartbreaking, but none the less beautiful and most important filled with hope.

They are attached to the inside walls of our planet, most of them fully reformed by now. Their faces are peaceful, their breathing slow and steady in their hibernating sleep. Nothing can disturb them in this place; They are as happy as they were before Lorien fell to the Mogodorians. Rest they shall until the living Garde conquer Mogodore and defeat their fleets of deadly soldiers. They are in far more happy states than those unreformed, which leads to my purpose of visiting my hibernating planet.

I weave my way through the masses, my current form bending around the dormant forms of my people. Those not completely reformed are toward the core, all of them struggling for the energy that remains. I drift to the most recently killed Garde, watching as her brown hair drifts down her back and her face is shifted into it's original structure. Lightly, I touch the top of her head, sending shockwaves through her incomplete form and causing her face to snap into place and her limbs to grow out.. I smile gently as her eyes open, bleary and confused. I lift her off of the core despite my now drained energy, touching her forehead lightly.

"_Go_," I whisper in Loric, "_live your destiny, Isadi." _

Her soul begins to drift upward, her body shifting into a comet-shaped form in preparation to travel back to Earth. Just as the other reforms have, she will enter a dying host and thrive in their form while their soul is released. It shall not come without instant struggles, but it is the only way to ensure that the chosen Loric will have victory.

I drift upward myself, beginning the travel back to my own body that remains hidden on Earth. I must recharge before I am to finish the reformation of the other chosen ones, but I can not take from my planet. Every piece of energy that remains is going to restore my people, and if I am to take the amounts I need, Lorien will begin to die.

As it is, the energy is limited. It is horrid, but some of the chosen Loric will likely not be able to make it back to Earth.

Those alive are slowly beginning to run out of time that ensures all of their people will rise again, and the only solution is to win as quickly as possible, no matter what the sacrifices.

* * *

**_Eight's P. O. V. _**

It's not ideal for me, but I was the only one really willing to go near him.

"Adamus," I say gruffly, rolling him onto his back and tearing off a piece of rabbit meat for him, "Adamus, wake up. You have to eat if you're going to live."

He opens his eyes slowly and reluctantly, squinting in the light. I push the food to his mouth, withdrawing quickly when he begins nibbling on it and standing up. His face shows confusion the second I do.

"Why are you helping me?" His voice is hoarse and strained with pain.

I shrug, "You're our ally."

"Really?" his stressed expression shifts to that of disbelief, "after what Number Nine did to me?"

"It's your choice: Remain our ally and start carrying more of your own weight or let Nine kill you," I say bluntly, "to be perfectly honest, none of us really like you or trust you. You're going to have to prove yourself unless you want to be murdered."

His anger is instant. "How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't call in that attack?! I have helped your allies before! I basically _brought _you Number Five!"

I narrow my eyes and turn my back to him. I've always had my doubts about him, but his kind killed _my _Marina and almost killed all of us. He really needs to accept the fact that he will _never _fully fit in with us Loric, and that he has shattered most of our trust by doing what he likely did. As I re-seat myself on a log, Ella looks up at me with worry, then at Adamus. She frowns deeply.

"What's wrong, Eight?" she whispers, "do you really not trust him?"

"Of course not," I grunt out bluntly.

"I don't think he did it, either," her frown deepens and her eyes show her sadness toward the subject, "I think he's really on our side."

"You weren't in the car," I grumble out in a bitter tone that's not that like me.

I can't really help it- Marina's death is killing me inside. The others are depressive and sad as well, of course, but they didn't love her like I did. Even Ella isn't as darkened by it, and she thought the world of her. She's worrying about Adamus now, the potential traitor, all because of her sensitive, gold heart. Deep down inside, I know Marina would agree with her, but I can't bring myself to it. The stakes are just too high.

John is growing anxious himself as he stares at the tablet. There isn't a doubt in my mind he's looking at Sarah's dot, the tracker we injected in her making her visible on the grid. I know I'd be doing the same if she was my girl, but even Henri and Six are getting worried expressions as they watch with John. Then again, their standpoints on what they're looking for are probably different.

"We've got to act sometime, you know," Sandor comments casually.

"But we can't agree on how to do it..." As he says this, there's a noticeable tone of despair in John's voice. He probably wants to find Sarah, but he knows we can't right now.

"I say we find Five again," I offer quietly like I did the night before, "then figure out where all the other Garde ended up."

"Wait..." Six's eyes widen a bit as she points at something on the grid, "another dot just appeared in Malaysia."

This catches everyone's attention instantly, and we're all instantly huddled around the grip. Sure enough, a third dot other than our own cluster is slowly making it's way around some part of Malaysia. My eyes widen as I look at the others; I imagine the same thought is passing through all of our heads.

_Number One died in Malaysia. _

"Then it's settled," Nine declares, standing up to his full height and straightening out his shirt, "we're heading abroad."

* * *

**_One's P. O. V. _**

It sucks to die, but it sucks even more when you're forced back to life.

Now I know how those patients on those E.R. shows feel like when electricity makes their heart start beating again. I mean, it's like waking up from the best dream to a dumpster. Which is literally where I had to wake up in, my limbs bound together and a plastic bag half off of my head. It took _forever_, but I finally got the bloody thing off and freed my hands enough to rip off of the rest of the rope. I smell like death and trash and urine, of course, so walking down Main Street I probably looked like a homeless person.

"Hey, Kate!" someone calls, making me roll my eyes. I don't know who _Kate _is, but I wind up finding out _quick _when I step into a restroom.

I'm me and all, but I'm not _me_. I'm in some woman's body and, sure enough, I look like I just went through a murder scene. My hair's now a dark color, matted around my neck in countless knots, but my eyes remain their same brown. With my bigger boobs and wide hips, my eyes are the _only _thing that's still me on the outside. I'm still hot and all that good shit, but _damn. _

Somebody knocks on the door as I'm trying to free my hair of all the tangles, shouting, "Get out of there already, you're holding up the line!"

"Go screw your customers!" I yell in return, becoming frustrated with my project and slamming my hands against the sink.

_Damn it. _

When I walk out, there's a long line of pissed off ladies to greet me. I merely flip them the middle finger and stalk out, looking around for people to pickpocket. I'm going to have to get a hotel or something like that, because I will be _damned _if I have to go looking for Adamus or the Garde or whatever looking like a murder victim.

Maybe the woman who's body I'm in was. Well, at least she can stay dead.


	7. Almost Impossible

The Retaliation of Seven 7

**_Nine's P. O. V. _**

I reach over and grab Johnny's shoulder, pretty much forcing him to look at me. I give him a hard look and say tightly, "Would you stop being so on edge about your girlfriend for three seconds?"

Confusion, shock, and anger crosses his expression. "How do you know I'm thinking about Sarah?"

I snort, "When are you _not_?"

He narrows his eyes further, but I just roll my eyes. He's just as bad as he was after we were stuck together for a while- one-track mind and lovesick. I've gotten to know her good enough to get my judgement and in place, and she is a piece of work, but she's a human. If there was a way I could get that through his thick head I would, but instead I'm left to tote him around and block out his longing for her.

Oh, the joys of being John's personal babysitter.

"What's he sulking about back there?" Sandor inquires from the driving seat as he makes the engine purr.

"His girlfriend," I smirk a bit and give John a cocked up eyebrow. "And let me tell you, Sarah Hart _is _quite the piece of work."

"Don't talk about her like that!" he snaps instantly, causing me to laugh smugly. He may be a lovesick puppy, but it's still fun as hell to get him worked up.

"Nine, behave yourself," Henri comes to his rescue or whatever from the passenger seat; I roll my eyes with Sandor.

"I'm just having a little fun," I say smoothly while leaning back my chair. "It's not my fault you two are so damn sensitive about the ladies."

Now it's their turn to roll their eyes while Sandor and I smirk. It's easy to mess with those two- both hard headed, both solemn but sensitive. I glance over in the back where Ella, Eight, and Six got crammed and am greeting by both Eight and Six scowling at me. I simply laugh smugly and turn back around as Adam moans in the back from being jolted with another bump; Sandor brought one the ridiculous mini vans we owned for almost no reason until now, but it still wasn't big enough for our current population. Besides, I'll be damned before I lift up the cupholder between Johnny and I for him to sit beside me.

"You all might as well relax," Sandor comments, "it's going to be a pretty lengthy drive to the airport."

I lean back fully and smirk up at Six scowling at me from where my seat rests lightly on her lap. Grinning wickedly, I put my arms behind my head and shut my eyes. Moments later, I hear her make a low, annoyed in her throat and laugh again smugly.

"You forget, Six," I smirk as I begin to truly doze off, "my telekinesis works even when I'm asleep."

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V. _**

I pull my coat around Michele tightly and hold Ocean Jem to my chest securely as we make our way through the fog. Quite the storm is brewing ahead, and we've got to get something to eat and drink before we hit the road for another few hours. Summer claims she has a place set up us for us in Washington, but we're all sick of being stuffed in the same car. It's definitely time for a rest and relax break.

"Emily, can we get candy?" Michele inquires innocently when we've all used the restroom and are sitting around a small red table in the diner attached to the gas station.

"Eat your hotdog first," I say gently while digging into my own burger. Jemstone was always right in saying I had an appetite like a boy, and now that I'm a teenager, it's only worsened.

Summer gives me a thin smile as she digs in and Ocean Jem sucks on her bottle. According to her, I have a motherly nature about me; I do not agree. I'm just doing what I can for these two kids, even if I'm planning on giving up Ocean Jem as soon as I can. She belongs somewhere less deadly and so does Michele, but I made a promise I don't intend on breaking. If anything she can hide at the house, and when this war is over...

I don't want to think about that.

Summer leans forward and mutters, "We're being watched."

I glance up. Sure enough, five forms are checking us out at one of the tables. All of their faces are shaded except for one, a man with a crooked nose. He's got a smirk playing on his face as he sees me looking, rising aruptly and making his way over. One of the forms rises and follows him, making me tense up terribly and rise myself. I step in front of our table as he gets close enough to speak, my fists clenched and anger beginning to the churn in the bit of my stomach.

"What do you want?" I ask tightly to this stranger.

"I think it is obvious enough," he smiles tightly, a syrupy sweet expression twinkling in his eyes. "I want you."

Something sinks into my back; I realize with anguish that one of the other forms came behind me while I was distracted by my anger at this mysterious man. I do not give them the satisfaction of gasping in pain, but I make the attempt at kicking his feet from under him. What they injected into me, though, is obviously fast working and makes me misaim my kick. I see Summer relaying for a fight with anger in her own eyes, but I merely not as my fall is caught by the other two forms.

We're caught, and the only thing we can do now is figure out how to get free again.

* * *

**_One's P. O. V. _**

I drum my fingers restlessly on the dashboard as the traffic halts again. I've barely moved ten inches in the past twenty minutes, and I'm still at least forty cars down from the red light. Human traffic systems obviously don't understand that I need to be places far more important than work or appointments, but how would they? I'm just left to suffer with the humans; I suddenly wish I didn't know how to drive so I could hitch a ride with one of the cars in a fast lane elsewhere.

There's some old guy asleep on the side of the road, his body mainly concealed by the ally. Most people haven't seemed to notice him or are merely ignoring him as they go on about their business; I can't help but frown. Even he does _look _a million year old, he's still obviously homeless. There's a distinct peace of his face, but also something that looks like Heidi's face. Something wide and ancient; It reminds me so much of her I finally just get out of my car and make my way to him. Those humans can honk all the hell they want, but I've got to save some old human before I go back.

"Hey. Hey, old guy." I nudge the side of his head with my foot; The honks in the distance slowly cease. "Wake up, would you?"

Slowly, he opens his eyes, which was a freak of nature by itself. They're multicolored, like every color of eye they come in multicolored. He smiles kindly at me and sits up with surprising ease, like he's in his twenties rather than in his billions.

"Hello child," he says all nicely. "What brings you here?"

I scowl a bit. He's being sappy, which obviously means he's about ask me for spare change or whatever. "I noticed you were an old guy and you were asleep in the alley," I state.

"And why did that intrigue you?" he asks.

Taking a step back at his serenity, I throw a glance backwards. All of the horns honking have ceased, and now several humans are looking at us scowling. I give them the evil eye before stepping back toward the car I 'borrowed', trying to avoid the man's freaky eyes. Something about him isn't human; there is no damn way anyone can have those eyes and be mundane.

"Nobody else was checking your pulse," I mutter, "so I wanted to make sure you weren't a murdered body."

"I have heard you were one once." As he says this, he rises and easily takes my hand in a gentle hand; I jerk back instantly.

"Stay out of my business!" I snap, spinning around and making a break for the car. Screw traffic, I'll just hijack another car and get as far away from this creep and this town as possible.

He moves with speed that's impossible for him to have, grabbing me around the waist and spinning me around. I can't help but scream as I swing at his face, but he dodges it quickly and drags me into the alley. Before I can scream again, he's pushed something into my mouth and picked me up by the waist. I continue to squirm as he lifts me up by his arms around my hips, and I'm relieved to see there's a few humans running toward the entrance of the alley.

Before they can help for once, though, we've disappeared.

* * *

I must have fainted or something, because I find myself waking up on something soft. I jerk up immediately, my hands splaying wildly in alarm of no bondage. As a matter of fact, I'm in a hotel room that looks beautiful. Of course I'm not alone, but it's not the supernatural old man that's in front of me. Instead it's a guy who looks slightly younger than a billion; maybe his sixties or something. His hair is a mix of black and brown, his eyes dark and the same as the old man's. I tense up and put up my fists, making him chuckle.

"Relax, my child," he soothes in a tone that sends shivers down my spine. "I am not going to harm you."

_This guy has to be this woman's father or something, _I glare, _now I have to get him off my ass, too. _

He raises an eyebrow at me, almost like he read my thoughts. "Allow me to introduce myself properly, Number One. I am Pittacus Lore."

* * *

_**Author Note: **_ A pretty short update...sorry. :(. But these cliffies needed to happen, you see! Don't worry, though. The next update is going to be quite lengthy and action filled to make up for this one. :)

P.S. My three year anniversary for joining this site was yesterday, and my first story EVER being posted's anniversary is on Saturday! :D What does that mean? Well, I was planning on lots of updates, but I'll be out of pocket on Saturday, so it will likely be on tomorrow and Sunday. :P.

_**Review please! **_


	8. Methods

The Retaliation of Seven 8

_**Author Note:**_ Hey, guys. :) If you'd all be soooo amazing to review my other work if you haven't already, it'd meant a lot me. You see, this story has only seven, (well, now eight,) chapters, and it has 42 reviews. That's pretty amazing for someone like me, you know? So if you'd all support my other stuff, I would be a very happy girl. I hope that's not too much to ask along with the usual request that you all review this chapter! :)

* * *

**_Five's P. O. V._**

When I wake up again, my ankles are secured to the legs of the chair and my wrists are bound behind my back by handcuffs. I keep my eyes closed for the time being, shifting slowly to the edge of my chair and peering out through my sticky eyelashes. The chair is trembling and bumping, proving we're in a moving container, and the shadows I can hardly make out prove I'm not alone in this situation.

"She moved," the voice of the man with a crooked nose speaks out.

Something grabs my chin seconds later, forcing my head up and my eyes to snap open. A woman smirks down at me, obviously satisfied with the results of her actions while stepping back. She's got something sleek in her hand she presses to my eye, filling it with green lights that begins to swirl; My stomach lurches like this container turning.

"You're a Mogodorian," I growl out against my better judgement. "I swear I'll rip your throat out, you little piece of shit."

"Oh, calm down." She merely rolls her eyes. "I'm not a Mogodorian, I am part of _your _government."

"Then how the hell did you get this nice weapon?" I spit back.

"That is none of you concern." Something sharp presses into my shoulder, clouding my vision over instantly as she lowers the gun. "Don't worry, you shouldn't wake up through most of our procedures."

"Pro...procedures...?" my voice is already slurring, igniting my anger instantly, "where the hell are you taking us?"

She seems to consider whether or not to tell me, but she apparently decides against it as my head drops again on it's own. Determined to fight whatever they injected in me, I begin working on the double-set of handcuffs that bound me with and snap the ropes that constrain my ankles. Of course she notices and reaims the gun, but she's too slow; I kick up as accurately as I can in my numbing senses and manage to knock it away.

"Grab her!" she barks to whoever else in in this vehicle.

"Emily!" Michele's cry only stirs my anger suddenly, inspiring me to break loose of the other rope constraint and crack one of the metal pieces of the handcuffs.

Hands grabs me from all sides, pushing me back into the chair with harsh shoves. At this the fuzzing over my mind and vision has made it impossible to deal exactly how many there are, but a headache that begins brutally straining my temples quickly to prove in my favor as I see right through the container we're all in. It's a large back of a big-haul truck, a relatively small space that hardly can hold all of the forms I'm struggling to make out. Finally just squeezing shut my eyes, I allow my Legacy to take over and make me sink through the chair and cuffs; Someone yelps as I try throwing the chair toward the pushing hands.

That proves to be about all I can do, though, because I can't see anything at all when I open my eyes again. Blindly I stumble around the tiny space, crashing into who's know what until my shoulder lands in something soft.

"M...Michele...?" I whisper hopefully.

Something cool presses against my throat and the man's voice growls, "Not a chance, sweetheart."

Unable to find strength to even push the gun away, I finally cave and the drugs they injected into me take over.

* * *

My own scream wakes me up, and by the looks of it, the people who touched my scars as well.

"Get the drugs..." one of them mumbles, but I'm determined not to let that happen a second time.

I kick up, catching his jaw and freeing my scarred from his gloved, latex hands. The four burned scars seems to tingle as jump to my feet on top of his metal table top, body tensed as people in white coats begin to surround me with wide, fearful eyes. They must have been certain I wouldn't wake, considering there doesn't seem to be any constraints in sight and they seem completely unsure how to contain me.

"Let me straighten this out for you..." I growl to them dangerously, "you can't constrain me any more. Where are my friends?!"

"Like we'd tell you that..." the guy who's jaw I kicked snorts, nursing his slightly wounded bone and pissing me off further.

He's suddenly face to face with me, my death grip on the front of his neck holding up in an obviously painful position. While he gasps for her air, I growl, "Where. The. Hell. Are. They?!"

The tip of something sharp begins to assent in the back of left calve, but I'm ready this time. I rally with a kick to the side of the attacker's face, causing him to stumble back far and me to jump down. There really isn't a logical reason for me to not use my Legacies before this humans if they were on that truck or have been prodding around me; I run right through the locked door and retreat from the guards standing in front of it. Their shock gives me enough time to turn a corner sharply down the hall, desperately moving my running through the walls so I'm able to see in each room I pass on the right side.

_This is just like when Jemstone was killed._

I finally find myself in a room with about as many scientists surrounding a metal lab table as there were in the room I was in, which stops me in my tracks. Not bothering to check who it was, I order sharply, "Get off of her!"

Heads snap around, eyes wide with alarm. One sputters out, "How are you in here?!"

"SECURITY!" another shouts in obvious terror.

Scowling deeply, I easily push past them, gasping when I see her. She's unconscious and looks as pale as a ghost, several colored wires hooked up to her and a dull slouch about her posture. Spinning around, I scream at them, "What did you do to her?!"

A few guards come running in, each loaded with tranquilizer gun with their eyes narrowed but afraid. Clenching my fists, I snatch the nearest sharp object I see and hurl it blindly, ducking inside of the hollow metal table. While under, I wrap my arms around her form and start stumbling out to the side with her on top. Of course I fall to my back, but I'm fast enough to scramble away from the firing darts and heft her on my back. My breathing ragged and my heart burning, I run for both our lives.

The last thing I truly reminder is something sharp in my back and someone's scream.

* * *

**_Pittacus Lore's P.O. V. _**

Not surprisingly, my presence has greatly taken Number One off guard.

"What the hell do you _mean _you're Pittacus Lore?" she snaps, her new body in a highly defense position. I can identify the fear in her eyes, however, and this is an addressable issue.

"You are obviously aware of your own reincarnation, yes?" I inquire patiently.

Slowly, she nods and retorts, "Yeah? Well, what's it to you?"

"It is because of the Elders sacrifice that all of the Loric will be able to rise again upon the defeat of the Mogodorians. I an the only living Elder at the original ten; I live to guide you Garde and Cepan to victory. Then, I will die for you all to return home and fill in our places," I say steadily.

She stares at me skeptically. "And how am I supposed to believe you're telling the truth at all?"

"How may I prove it to you?" I offer in return steadily.

"I don't know!" she snaps, "do...do something Loric-ly!"

Sighing briefly, I look at her solemnly in the eye and respond, "Your name is Eliaza Tine Quire. I have been watching you and the other young Garde grow up; You moved around Malaysia for most of your life with your Cepan, Hessu, who went by the alias Heidi. You feel in love with a surfer named Wade in your final location, and were killed by a sword to the neck."

This alarms her into silence, making me hold back a slight smirk. I am aware that my presence was not supposed to be established, but the Cepan knew that I was missing in action for years ever since Lorien's demise. Now the time has come for me assemble all of the Loric once more and ensue certain victory before my sacrifice is made.

It is my destiny as much as theirs.

"I...I'm sorry, sir," she mumbles, unable to meet my gaze.

"Do not apologize, my child," I assure. "But the time has come for you to assist me."

"Me? Assist you?" She looks up incredulously.

"Indeed." I pick up my own tablet, one that is identical to the Garde's and pointing to a dot blipping dimly in England. "And we shall start by finding the next Number."

* * *

**_Adam's P. O. V. _**

I am extremely sore when I'm finally able to get out of the van. Number Nine merely smirks at me, turning away while Four shoots me a sympathetic gaze. Out of all of the Garde I'm left with, I particularly favor him. After all, neither one of us were the only one's that felt some of Nine's true strength and temper.

"I have arranged our flight," Sandor informs us. "Our plane leaves in three hours."

"Three hours?" Nine repeats, sounding discouraged. "What the hell are we supposed to do for three hours in an airport?"

"Occupy yourself," Henri replies curtly, heading off to the food court with Number Four himself.

Snorting, Nine follows suite with Sandor, leaving Number Six, Ella, and I to ourselves. Six, having not appearing to have gotten a lot of sleep in the van, sits in one of the plastic chairs that line in rows of two back-to-back and tilts her head back. While she closes her eyes, Ella gives me a kind look and sits nearby, taking my hand in her own. This, of course, surprises me greatly.

"Um...hi..." I shy, making her smile gently.

"I'm so sorry about what Nine did," she tells me genuinely, "it wasn't justified at all."

I merely shrug and bite my lower lip. I don't want to take sides with anyone on anything; That will result in more confliction She must be able to tell this as well, because she merely leans back and closes her own eyes. She is so beautiful, even in her sleep and relaxed state; I am beginning to develop feeling for this three-year younger girl. (My slowing down in age and such contributes.) Blushing a bit, I lean my own back and begin to try to attempt sleep.

**_*Dream cut.* _**

_I'm standing in an empty room, my wrists and ankles bound. I instantly begin to panic, being upside down and completely helpless. A face more familiar to me than I'd like to admit looms from the shadows, giving me a wicked, crooked grin. He towers above especially in this state, his dark eyes gleaming as he pulls out his treasured sword. He has used it for many commercial opportunities among us on Mogodore, but it is also his most deadly weapon._

_"Hello, Adamus," he rumbles as the color drains from my already-white face. _

_"Setr...Setrakus Ra..." I sputter. He obviously knows how much of a traitor I am to them, but why would he 'grace' me with his presence in a dream?_

_"Do you my Urmasa?" he asks slowly, casually playing her large, worn fingers across the gleaming, Modorian-symbol coated metal. _

_"Y-yes..." I manage, finding my throat to become constricted. _

_"This is what I plan on using for your execution," he informs me with notes of pleasure dancing in his voice, "and it will before our planet. You were meant to bring honor and you shall by representing what the enemy is to us. Do not worry; You shall be an important part in our celebration at finishing the last of the Loric."_

_"You will never defeat them," I respond matter of factly. I would never have dreamed of speaking to my once idol a few months ago, but I have changed for the better. I will never honor his face again, I will merely fantasize about stabbing Urmasa through it. _

_"You underestimate your own kind, Adamus," he merely smirks. "I have my methods of learning what I wish."_

_And with that, he sinks the tip into my neck. _

**_*End of dream cut.*_**

The most disturbing part is that I wake up with that same cut gushing blood.


	9. A Little Broken

The Retaliation of Seven 9

_**Author Note:** _Sorry about the slower updates, guys..*Blush.* It's been a crazy summer.

* * *

**_Ella's P. O. V. _**

Something wet and drippy drips onto my cheek, making my eyes flutter open before Adam jolts to sitting up properly.

A huge gash his in his neck, obviously made by something like a sword or knife. I gasp a bit, gripping his arm with one hand while trying to get a proper look it myself in attempt to help. Much to my surprise, he slaps my hand away sharply while stumbling off in the other direction. Six groggily begins opening her eyes as I nurse my slightly stinging hand, my eyes wide as I bite my lower lip. Before she can completely rally and get involved, I scurry after him.

"Adam!" I call worriedly. "Adam, you're hurt! You can't just-"

He whirls around sharply, tears misting over his eyes and he snaps, "Don't worry about me!"

I can't help but cower back. Adamus snapping is completely different for him; There must be something really wrong. I can only watch helplessly as he shoves his way into the bathroom, one hand covering the wound on his neck. Moments later, I feel a hand on my shoulder that's well-worn and tense. Judging by that, I'm not surprised to Six looking less than amused. I shake my head to her quietly, patting her hand before nudging it off and heading back to the chairs. I really would like to help him, but if he won't take it, I know I can't after that.

Besides, how embarrassing would it be to follow him into the men's bathroom?

The guys return a few minutes after Six rigidly sits back down, all of their hands loaded with drinks for all of us, burgers/hotdogs, and some candy. I can't help giggle a little despite it all when Nine tosses me a Twinkie and hands me a Coke; He smirks and glances around.

"Where's the Mog boy?" He raises an eyebrow.

I look down briefly before forcing it back up, trying not to look suspicious. "He went to the bathroom."

Six snorts a bit beside me and Nine frowns, raising his eyebrow higher. Nervously, I just nibble on my pastry, letting my auburn hair hide my eyes. I know none of them truly trust and I probably shouldn't either, but he _has _helped us. I do believe he's going to be able to help us in the long run, and who knows? Maybe he'll even save us one day, though hopefully not at the expense of his own life.

"Flight Number 98 is leaving in ten minutes," the intercom echoes.

"That's us," Sandor states, shoving the rest of his burger in his mouth and standing up.

Quickly, I finish up my Twinkie and toss the wrapper. Six and Nine are both looking at my suspiciously as we follow Sandor, setting me more on edge. I don't want to just _tell _them about Adam; They might make us leave him behind. So, against my better judgement, I turn around sharply and take off into the crowd, running madly for the men's bathroom. I hear rapid footsteps behind me and the sounds of Nine shouting my name, but I don't slow down until I've ripped open the door. Instantly I'm greeted by men using the urinals, their faces a mixture of embarrassment, annoyance, and confusion; I try to ignore them as I stumble toward the sinks. Sure enough, Adam is bent over one of them, a collection of bloodied brown towels around him and the sink as he dabs at the nasty cut.

"Adam...Adam, our flight is leaving..." I huff out in my lack of breath.

A large hand snatches my shoulder, making me yelp involuntarily as I spin to look at Nine. His face is tight, eyes ablaze as he snarls out to Adam, "Get on or we leave your sorry ass here."

Luckily, he doesn't have to think about it: Adam snatches a last handful of towels and presses it to the still-bleeding cut while following us. I allow Nine to drag me to boarding, (not that I really have a choice when he's got a hold on me,) with guilt eating away at the pit of my stomach. I didn't _ mean _to alarm the others or make Adam angry...

Someone brushes against Nine sharply, loosening his grip on me very briefly. I catch the scene of chlorine seconds before someone grabs me from behind, shoving something over my nose and mouth. The smell of chlorine explodes my senses, making the world fuzz as Nine's grip vanishes. The next few seconds are a blur of bodies and gunfire, as well as lot of shouting and running. Somebody else grabs me off my feet, taking off in the opposite direction. A red drip hits my cheek- I can tell that from my the haze that's bringing me close to darkness.

I'm relieved and thankful for Adamus only until he throws me in the back of a black van and presses a gun to my throat.

* * *

**_Michele's P. O. V. _**

Something sharp stings my cheek, jolting me roughly from my sleep.

Mistress Gladis stands over me, a permanent scowl on her face as she looks at me. "It's nine o' clock and your sleep in this messy bed!" she barks, raising her hand to slap me again.

Before she can, though. a low noise rises from beside me. I'm relieved as Orphan lifts herself from beside me, giving Mistress Gladis another low growl to make her back down. She's the orphanage's 'pet', but the others kids told me she would growl at almost everybody until Ocean Jem and I were dropped off here a few days ago by those mean government men. I haven't seen her since, but Orphan came up to me while I was hiding under my new bed and licked away my tears. She follows me everywhere now, and she's my only friend and the only reason I haven't been paddled yet.

"Y-yes ma'am..." I whimper, kicking off my sheets in a hurry and struggling to fix my bed.

Mistress Gladis just snorts, stomping away. I'm really scared of her and this place- it's really horrible. All the other kids have marks from being hit by the people who work here, too, and there's almost someone getting hit with the paddle in Mistress Gladis' office. We're all scared and I really, _really _want Emily or Summer to come back.

I sure hope they're okay.

Orphan licks my hand, almost like she knows why tears are going down my face again. For her sake, I can only try to smile and wonder if Emily ever felt like this with me.

* * *

**_Sarah's P. O. V. _**

The world is very slowly coming back into torture. The government man that I'd seen first promised torture, and though it probably wasn't as bad as what the Garde have endured in the past, it was still bad. They yelled and clawed at me. giving me several cuts, bruises, and scars. Instead of locking me up this time, though,. they were trying to drug me so heavily I had no choice but to talk.

_Like_ last time, I had to be saved.

But whatever reason rescue efforts for me there were have been stalled. Not long after I was sharply unhooked and I heard a voice that sounded like Emily's, several darts flew over my hazy vision. There's a shrill scream and the sound of a body hitting the floor, so I can't help but scream myself. Another needle is plunged into my arm, but despite my blurred mind and judgement, I'm not going to go down without fighting for whoever was trying to save me. My leg kicks out hard, finding something warm and soft and making some guy gasp. Rolling to the side and falling directly on the floor, I see dark hair and a pale, drained face that's familiar.

"E-Emily..." I gasp out weakly, gripping her front desperately. "Emily, w-wake up..."

A rough pair of hands yanks me away from her instantly. Before he can pull the trigger on the gun he was holding to my chest, though, something bright shoots over my head and the hands disintegrate around my shoulder. Spinning around and stumbling fully at the sharp motion, I see another blonde head with different colored highlights racing in, suddenly pushing me down beside Emily and standing in front of her. From what I can tell, she's got a Mogodorian blaster in each hand and is posed for fighting.

Then again, I'm seeing four of her, so maybe I'm just imagining that.

I'm not sure how much time passes before I wake up again, but when I do, I'm surprisingly not on a cold bench or in a moving truck. Instead I'm in an actual bed, the covers tucked carefully around my aching, abused-feeling body; The lights are even off aside from the dully humming TV. Next to the bed, Emily and the multicolored-hair girl are curled up together. Two things become obvious in unison:

1.) They know each other and are obviously friends.

2.) The multicolored-hair girl saved both of our asses back there.

I slowly move to prop myself up on one elbow and, quickly finding myself to be too weak, resign my focus to the news. The world has get to come back fully into focus, so the TV isn't exactly helping with the volume turning down as low as it is- something about a fire or a shooting or something like that. All I can really do is_ think, _and that means facing the uncomfortable reality that none of us are up for battle right now and are completely helpless to an attack in a hotel. The penthouse was ruined, leaving me with no idea where the others could possibly be now and what we're going to do. I want to call to call John, or Ella, or _somebody_, but my phone is the penthouse when it went down. The government has probably found what is left of it and hacked into it; If they get the others' numbers we're all just as screwed as we three are now.

I've never really regretted joining the Loric's fight, but I've never wanted to go home as badly as I do now.

The multicolored hair girl stirs, giving me a welcome distraction from my depressing thoughts and reality. I croak out, "H-hello."

She looks at me with half-closed eyes, stifling a yawn and saying quietly, "Good to see you're still alive, Sarah Hart."

"H-how do you know my na-name?" I ask, my voice shaking terribly as I end up stifling a yawn myself. She just smiles sleepily and sits up with strength I merely wish I could have now.

"Five has mentioned you before..." she muses. "And you're pretty well known from the remaining Loric."

"Is th-that a good thing?" I ask weakly, making her chuckle.

"My name is Summer," she introduces herself, slowly making her way over to me and letting me lean heavilly on her in a sitting position. "I'm Five's surrogate Cepan."

"She's mentioned you before...I thought you were dead..." I look up weakly.

"Was," she corrects. "Look, I'll explain everything soon. For right now, I'm starving and we need a way to charge up these weapons. I'm thinking takeout."

* * *

**_Sandor's P. O. V. _**

After the take, we really had no other choice than to retreat on the plane.

Nine is restless beside me, staring out of the window tightly. The other Garde are in no better condition, and even Henri looks like he's about to be sick to his stomach. I'm not exactly happy about our youngest Garde being kidnapped- she's only eleven and has no real Legacies other than shifting her age and slight telekinesis. Now that the Mogs have her and Adamus betrayed her, we all know she's pretty much as good as dead, but it was save ourselves and continue to preserve our race or save her and die ourselves/be tortured.

I suppose the others have yet to accept this logic.

I look over to my Garde tiredly, placing a hand on his free hand as the other rubs the headache I know has started in the center of his forehead. He barely glances at me before resuming the glare out of the window, inspiring a sigh from me.

"Stanley," I say tightly, quietly. "You know we can't fight a war without losses."

"It doesn't have to be her," he replies just as tightly if not more. "She's only eleven damn years old."

"I know. But that's not our fault," I counter back with a sharp edge to my words. "She made it for a little while on our own, so let's just hope she can make on our own. We have to get Malaysia and save an experienced Garde."

"Experienced?" he scoffs. "At least Ella hasn't died before."

Maybe I shouldn't be offended- he's correct. Even so, the retort makes it's way out before my brain can approve it. "Yeah? Like I have?"

He tenses up and I almost immediately regret what I've said. Obviously it'd be a sensitive subject, especially when he was the one who did it out of mercy for me, but still. He's once again being too closed minded and focusing on one when he should be focusing on the greater good, exactly like he should have been when Maddy betrayed him and I ended up being killed in the end. He needs to see things different before he makes another careless mistake like that, because if he does we're all going to pay and there will be no second chance.

"It was mercy," he states tightly. "Be grateful for that."

"You were the reason I went as it was," I reply back bitterly, unable not to be a little resentful of my Garde for what happened.

He tenses and stands up sharply, harshly knocking my knees out of his way to get in isle. He completely ignores the protests of the waitress as he storms to the back of the airplane, plopping down and turning to the window. It's obvious I've struck a nerve and got him pissed, but I'm not in a much better mood myself as I turn to my own window sharply.

Great, now I have a bad relationship with my Garde in the middle of a war. Just. Great.


	10. Can you see me?

The Retaliation of Seven 10

_**Author Note:**_I'm sorry I haven't updated in ages...

But the Fall of Five.

So.

Many.

Too.

Many.

Uncountable.

Feels.

All at once.

;_;.

* * *

_**Five's P. O. V. **_

The world is still out of focus, but I'm still running for my life.

Summer is gripping my hand tightly, pulling me along the streets. With all the commotion around us, lost in their own world, our running probably doesn't appear to disturb them. Behind us, several men are attempting to corner us, each of them having at least hand in their overcoats to clutch their currently hidden weapons. Sarah is breathing heavilly on her other side, her blonde hair whipping around her petrified face. We've all been laying low for about a week, but the one time we went out for coffee, some people with a government badge located us.

And that's how we got here.

"Come on, we just need to get someone crowed!" Summer puffs, her own face bright red with adrenaline and sweat. "Don't slow down now!"

Above us, light gray clouds float around quietly. I briefly humor the idea that Six has come to our rescue and that the clouds are the beginning on a mighty storm, but knowing it's not true kind of depresses me. The others probably consider me a traitor, and while I am not, none of these was supposed to go like this. The three of us just keep pounding down the sidewalk, taking as many sharp turns as possible on these streets and even going as far to run in a crowd of humans surrounding us. It's selfish and risky, but even this screwed up government won't shoot its people.

Eventually we lose ourselves within a subway, having fled in last defense. Just ahead, the train seems to be bordering; I grip Summer's hand tighter and make a bolt forward. I think the conductor asks for our tickets, but I merely pull us in, ducking my head down as I collapse onto a heavily stained seat. If they're going to catch us they will have had to catch here- I just can't run any longer. By the looks of it, Sarah and Summer are in about the same situation.

The conductor is suddenly in front of us, though just as squished as every other passenger. "Ticket?" he grunts out, wiggling his white-gloved fingers at us.

Before I can speak, Summer shoves something into his hand. "Keep it," she grunts back out, sagging heavily against the metal area beside me.

He glances down at the wad of cash briefly before pushing his way back through the crowd. I look to her very gratefully before letting my eyes flutter closed. I feel Sarah sink down beside me, her sweaty cheek brushing briefly against my slightly trembling arms. It's time like this I wish we could just be normal people heading to meetings or back to work; being human sounds good now. They naively grumble about their transportation, not having a clue what's at stake and what danger they will likely soon be in.

Naivety can only get things killed, honestly.

I slowly submit myself to a dark, fitful sleep as the engine rumble to life beneath our feet. I suppose we lost the government at the entrance or got far back enough to the ground, because I'm asleep long enough for the darkness to melt into day in my unexpected dream.

_I'm standing in the middle of a field, a small forest off to the my right. Ahead of me an entire army of armed Mogodorians are marching, all seeming to follow one shortish figure with his head down. By the slight tan of his skin, I can only assume he's one of the truebloods, meaning he was born like any human or Loric would be instead of genetically engineered in a vat. They stop a few hundred yards away from me and he flips back his hoodie, revealing a slightly chubby face and a dark expression. A smirk plays on his lips as he advances on his own, standing at an almost exact eye level with me. His deep eyes sparkle with something more than mischief, something cold and inhumane._

_"Do you know who I am?" he breaths out hoarsely, his smirk only growing as I scowl at him. _

_"A Mogodorian," I state. "What else could you be you little bastard?" _

_He lets out a short, gruff laugh, as if he's delighted by this idea. "I might as well be, right? Well, let me give you a clue." _

_Stepping back, I watch as he lifts himself into the air and spreads his arms broadly. I raise an eyebrow but can't help the step of caution I take in reverse, narrowing my eyes further as he lets out a smug laugh. _

_"You...you're a traitor whoever the hell you are," I snap. "Who the hell are you?" _

_"The name's Five." He drops to the ground abruptly and surges forward, seizing my chin and forcing our faces far too close. "The** real** Number Five."_

_I merely roll my eyes. "You have three seconds to tell the truth before I figure out some way to snap your neck if you actually have one under that fat." _

_I seemed to insult him; good. He quickly covers it with a sneer as he steps back. Once he does, all of the Mogodorians behind him lift their weapons, all of them directed at me. _

_"I guess nobody ever told you," he taunts. "Why don't you just ask your little Cepan? She won't lie if you ask about me." _

_"So you' come into my dream just to talk shit?" I snap. "You're a traitorous piece of shit of a coward, whoever the hell you actually are."_

_"At least I know what I am." He motions over his shoulder and the army lowers their weapons. "Keep this in mind, my little wannabe. I'm coming, and you better figure out to watch yourself from all sides quickly." _

_"I'm one step of you, you little shit." _

When I wake, though, I'm shaking badly and in a physical sweat. As I look to Summer, whom seems to be dozing off from where's standing up herself, I can't help but feel like I've seen that boy before. I'm too unnerved to fall asleep but too exhausted not too; A few tears dripple free when I close my eyes again.

Somehow I know that he's somehow right.

* * *

**_Adam's P. O. V. _**

Ella is trembling beside me, her big brown eyes the widest I've ever seen them. I may not be able to read her emotions face, but I'm positive she's thinking I'm a traitor right now. After all, I did snap at her and put her at gunpoint, but I don't have a choice if I've going to save both of us. We're both just going to have to play by Setrakus Ra's rules for a bit; I will have to go back to the place I never wanted too just to save the Garde. The van we're in takes a step turn, suggesting we're getting close to base; guns are pointed at both of us a bit tighter and I merely close my eyes for a moment. I hate every inch of this forsaken place that made me who I am, and yet I must pretend as I am a full supporter of the Great Expansion and the Great Book yet again for a little while.

I see Ella turn to me fearfully. By the looks in her still half-drugged eyes, she's trying to read me, trying to understand what's going on right now. I give her a solemn look and attempt to communicate telepathically.

_I'll protect you, _I think, trying to get her to hear.

Her expression doesn't change in the slightest, however; my heart sinks further into my stomach. The van suddenly jolts to a shut and both of us are seized, pulled into the harsh sunlight. Hands and feet are shoved into my body as I'm harshly dragged in the other direction. The last I see of the youngest Garde are the tears going down her face, and my sunken heart seems to fall apart.

The soldiers drag me into the building I don't recognize, practically moving so quickly my feet failed to walk. Before I can process the dim lighting inside I'm thrown to my hands in knees, the handcuffs rubbing my already raw skin further as I smack my head on the concrete. The golden light disappears as once, leaving me in a hazy room with no light or company. The other thing I find in this large, one-room space is a single metal chair and a small box that looks like it was blown open by a bomb of some sort. Moving only my bruising knees, I inch over to peer inside.

I find several objects inside, all of which look hardly larger than a butterknife. Biting on my lower lip, I slowly turn on my knees and lean back, my stiff fingers briefly touching one. I find something clotted and stiff; I crane my neck back and am horrified at the red on my fingertips. These tools are bloodsoaked; I can only imagine what they were used for. Feeling queasy, I crawl to the other end of the room and lay painfully on the ground in a heap. Visions of what they could possibly be doing to little Ella flash through my eyes as I squeeze shut my eyes and bile crams up my throat.

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

I'm not sure how long I lay there before the heavy doors clang open. Someone enters and looks around briefly before resting their gaze on me; they are on me in seconds. I'm sluggishly drug across the floor until I'm flung into the chair, something sharp slashing right through the chains on my handcuffs as the door shuts again. The person before me snaps, sending lights on all around me and blinding my vision instantly. They chuckle in front of me- they sound female.

"Oh, poor Adamus," she taunts me as I blink furiously in attempt to clear my eyes. "You're such a little bastard and yet the Great Leader is going to give you another chance."

"Who...are you?" I grunt out and am rewarded with a sharp slap to my face.

"You don't speak unless I prompt you," she snarls. "You answer honestly or I'll strangle you with those chains. I _will _know if you're lying."

I don't respond, merely stare straight ahead. She scowls in what vision I have regained before pressing something sharp with several points against my shoulder, each of them beginning to roll across my skin.

"Where are the Garde?" she snaps.

My muteness continues even as she rolls the points forward, cutting deep into my skin. Blood begins to pour as I flinch, making a small noise of pain. I'm not sure how long this continues, her slashing my body in many different places in order to prob out answers as my blood washes over the clotted ones in the box. By the time she seems unsatisfied but delighted at her handiwork, I'm on the line of unconscious and my blood is the only color I see, even in the blinding lights she has kept on for my interrogation.

"What...did...you...do...Ten..." I gurgle out, not sure if I'm gagging on my blood or saliva.

The chair I'm in tilts back, taking my uncoordinated and badly abused body to the ground. She gives a small laugh and drives into my bloody stomach with her heel as the door clang open again.

"You didn't answer my questions," she states wickedly. "Why should I answer yours?"

I hear the clicking of heels walking away briefly before boots thunder in, several hands yanking me back up only for me to sink forward in agony. Even through the torture, however, I silently commend myself for staying silent for the Garde's sake. I can only hope they didn't do the same to Ella, but it's not like I'm any good at this point. I left her on her own and I can't undo that choice.

Cold hands suddenly grip at my face, forcing my darkened vision up. Another set of fingers begin to stroke at my snapped-open eyes, clearing away the clotted blood as the slashed skin begins to lose it's pain. As the hands move down, each wound begins to lose it's pain until I'm left with sure to be hideous scars. The hands disappear once my wrists are healed, almost giving me permission to crumple in a semi-fetal position on the ground. More rougher hands seize me hungrily, commencing to drag me across the room. Two cold metal pieces snap around my wrists and I'm forced to stand, my body slumped against the wall as the marching echoes out.

The cold hand grips my chin briefly and I feel a cold body against mine. "We'll all have to do this again tomorrow," a soft, female voice whispers. Her voice is hollow and filled with deep sadness, as if she's already seen something similar.

As the door shut and the lights redim, I can only think one thing as delayed tears fill my eyes.

_Marina. _

* * *

_**John's P. O. V. **_

"We have to go back."

I sigh as I watch Nine hang upside down on the ceiling, his face dark and stormy. This hotel we're is old and run down, but is was vacant and none of us really have the heart for anything fancy after the Chicago penthouse being destroyed. I'm desperate to save Ella as well and strangle Adamus, but Sandor did have a point. We have to find the unlost Numbers before we go after her and pray she'll be able to survive until then.

"We can't." Six stands up sharply and bangs her fist against the table, her own eyes flickering with not-so-suppressed anger. "And you know it."

"We have to!" He repeats, his own rage resparked by hers.

"We have to get some sleep," Eight states tiredly. "All of us have jetjlg and are about as useful as a pile of trash right now." As if to prove his point, he sags heavily against one of the beds and shuts his eyes tightly.

"Come on," I hear Sandor sigh to Nine as he heads out himself. Giving a short grunt in response, our rebel drops to the ground evenly and throws a glance back at me.

"You better come up with a plan, man," he states gruffly. "I'm more interested in listening to your blonde ass before I listen to him right now."

With that, he stalks out. Henri stands minutes later, motioning for him to follow me out of the room into the hall. Once the door is shut, he turns to me his famous solemn, knowledge-filled gaze.

"Son," he says gravely. "I know you all want to save Ella, but-"

"I know," I cut him off in a mutter. "We have to find Numbers One through Three. It's crucial."

He raises an eyebrow, as if my shortness amuses him slightly. "You've grown quite a bit since I left you, John. I'm proud of you for that."

I glance up and meet his gaze for the first time. His dark eyes are sincere and show the constant traces of warmth- he's the only person other than Sarah I've always known I could let in. I take a step forward and rest my chin on his shoulder, allowing him to lightly rub my back for just a few moments.

"What's really on your mind?" he asks quietly.

"Sarah," I reply in the same hushed tone. "And the others."

He sighs. "I am too, John. I am too."

When we pull away, I see his eyes have dimmed considerably. As nice as it is to finally have my Cepan back with me, we're still at war, and there's the haunting possibility we could lose another Loric at any given moment. From the now defeaning silence of the hallway, I hear arguing coming from a few doors down, the voices of Sandor and Nine cutting through the brief silence. Henri gives me a weak smile and motions to the door.

"I'll try to figure something out for another tracker," he tells me hoarsely. "We're all just going to have to do our best."

I nod quietly as he enters our room, leaving me truly alone for the first time in what seems like ages. I take this opportunity to go the roof and sit down on a smokestack, looking tiredly at the milling streets below. It's the polar opposite of what Chicago was, and I can't say how I feel about it. It's almost like what I grew up, always comparing the different places and trying to adjust on a whim like Henri was able to do after a couple of years of constant movement. I sigh out shakily and feel a sudden urge to scream, or cry, or do anything. To _feel _anything when we're losing allies so quickly and the war is truly dawning on all of us; not all of us will make it out alive.

_John..._I hear a small, broken voice whispers to me. _John, can you see me...? _

I lift up my head and squint into the night. The small shaky voice repeats this call, her voice desperate and sorrow-filled. I recognize it as Ella's and get to me sluggishly, blinding stumbling forward.

_John...John, please save me..._

Her voice abruptly stops and I feel a cold chill go down my spine. Out of all of us she is the least likely to survive; she's a genuine Loric but far from a fighter. She's not ready for war and all of us know that deep down inside. If we have to lose every other Garde, there's a part of me that just wants to save the most hopeful and nice out of the ten of us remaining.

I head downstairs to grab Nine and my Chest.


End file.
